


émeute  équipement

by chat_dubh



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Akuma (Miraculous Ladybug), Alternate Universe - No Kwamis, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Bad Parent Sabine Cheng, Bad Parent Tom Dupain, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of neglect, Protect Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Protect Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Protests, Runaway Adrien, mentions of abuse, runaway marinette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:27:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22267909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chat_dubh/pseuds/chat_dubh
Summary: protesting the government would be  a lot easier with super powers, but instead all they've got is their riot gear.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 17
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic so thank you for checking it out. This is kind of an intro to the story, Marinette's perspective is similar and will be posted next.

Adrien knew what being rich felt like, his meals were prepared by master chefs at his father’s whim, he had the newest computer, the highest quality clothes, one of the largest houses in the city. His life was one of opulence and luxury, yet tight control. he first went to school at age 16 in his lycee years, having been home-schooled by tutors for his life up to that point.

Protests against police brutality and anti-strike legislation had been plaguing the capital for weeks and were escalating in violence everyday. Adrien had been fed mostly censored, if any, news at home but while at school he heard how bad the situation truly was. He wanted to go to them and see what was going on himself, he didn’t want bias, he didn’t want his father to forbid him from going, he wanted his own eyes to see what was happening. Getting out was manageable, his father hadn’t banned him from spending time around the city and with a healthy amount of cajoling and false innocence about his intentions he convinced his father to let him leave for most of a day.

Adrien took a shower early in the morning and combed his hair loose letting it hang around his face, tickling his jaw, and left himself free of makeup, taking a pair of dark sunglasses and a hoodie he felt quite anonymous, even his friends at school had never seen him without at least some makeup and his father’s brand image would never allow him to go out without doing his hair. The hoodie and glasses were only to blend him in with the others protesting.

He made his way to the Place de la Republique, the marches start point, moving with the flow of people and dodging the view of the police already out in force. When he reached it Adrien was suddenly aware of the buzz of the crowd, the thrum of conversation, the chanting of slogans, and the music someone was playing far off enough that he had no hope of recognizing it, all blending together to make the crowd seem to be but one creature waiting to break out of its confines. A great roar came up from the crowd as it started moving down the roads, he felt bodies push past him in a rush and he began to move with it.

As the crowded pushed forward Adrien felt someone push a black bandana into his hand, he looked over and saw another member of the crowd, whose face was wrapped with a scarf, catch his eye mime putting it over his nose and mouth, Adrien complied and the man disappeared into the crowd once again. Now feeling truly hidden Adrien pushed forward making his way to the side of the crowd and moved forward in the less dense parts of the crowd. As he got nearer the front, he heard a loud bang and saw a smoking projectile be launched in arc from the line of riot police landing maybe 20 metres ahead of him. As he watched, the crowd moved away from it leaving a circle where it lay until a young woman ran from the crowd and kicked it back towards the police line. Another cheer rose from the crowd and it surged forward pushing tighter against the shields and forcing the police back along the road. A megaphone called for the crowd to disperse to little effect as the protesters yelled back insults towards the police, who responded with more tear gas in further attempts to stop them. 

Adrien let the crowd push past him, he didn’t want to be in direct confrontation with the police while he still was so unsure of where he stood with the protesters; on the one hand this was a direct response to the rise of police brutality, which he could never abide, yet on the other many of them were also targeting people like his father, the many chants of ‘anti-capitaliste’ were still ringing in his ears. Letting himself be carried by the crowd Adrien let his mind wander, exploring the many tangents of where his choices could lead him letting his surroundings blur around him. 

The police guarded the side streets, stopping any protesters from pushing out, leading to skirmishes every couple hundred metres along the march route. As these fights continued to escalate Adrien started to plan on making his way out and heading home, but as a large group of protesters were broken away from the main group Adrien was carried along with them to where they were herded under a bridge arch. Adrien knew he couldn’t be arrested, it would raise to many questions, and besides, he wasn’t even at the protest in support of them. So he began trying to get out, by any means.

The baton caught him under the eye forcing him to stumble back against a wall, he tasted blood where his cheek had cut against his teeth. Hopped up with sudden adrenaline Adrien jumped past the line of police and vaulted over a guard rail into the street, rushing through the mass of people getting himself lost in the crowd around him. Reaching the park at a sprint he collapsed onto a secluded bench and let himself catch his breath, as the adrenaline left him he began to feel the effects of the day take hold; his shins burned where they’d been kicked and knocked innumerable times, his head ached where the police officer had hit him, and his lungs still burned from his running.

He washed his face in a bubbler at the park and rubbed most of the dirt off his shoes onto the grass. By the time he reached home he looked quite relaxed, the picture of someone who’d merely spent some time in the park with his friends, his modelling skills helped him to shed the anger he felt bubbling under the surface at how the people were being treated. He only forgot to account for the huge bruise decorating the left half of his face, stretching from just below his left eye down to his chin in a wide purpling arch with no way to disguise it from his father.

He hoped to reach his room without being spotted but his bad luck meant this of all days would be one of those rare ones that saw his father around the house. His silent trek towards his room was interrupted by a call from his father, Adrien turned to face him carefully keeping his expression in a pleasant half smile. The narrowing of Gabriel’s eyes was the only indication that anything was amiss. “What… is that?” he asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

“I’m sorry father, I fell over in the park and hit my face on a bench. It’s not that big of a deal, really.” Adrien replied hurriedly.

“Not big deal?” He seemed almost angry at the comment, “This is terrible, do you have any idea the amount of extra help that will have to be scheduled by tomorrow? It will take much more makeup than normal to hide that during tomorrows photoshoot and that in itself will require the lighting array to be edited so that it doesn’t highlight it. Not to mention the extra work from the editors.” Gabriel’s voice rose with his monologue as Adrien felt himself begin to withdraw.

“I’m sorry father it won’t happen again,” Adrien attempted to placated him.

“Of course it won’t, as I will not be allowing any more unsupervised excursions, this was clearly a mistake. You will only be leaving the house with your bodyguard and only when expressly given permission from me,” And with a turn he left Adrien gaping at where he’d stood.

Just briefly Adrien had entertained the notion that his father would actually care that he’d been hurt, even if only in his own overprotective way. The casual dismissal after stripping his son of any freedoms he’d fought for truly cemented Adrien being opposed to him. Adrien thought maybe it was selfish to only join the protests after being directly ignored by his father, but inside he knew that if this was how Gabriel treated his own son then his employees would be far worse off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for responding to the last chapter, it's really inspired me to actually stick with this.   
> This time it's Marinette's perspective.

Marinette knew she was born into privilege, her family had never wanted for food or housing, she’d had the freedom and resources to explore her hobbies and attend school. Her classmates included some of the children from the highest echelons in Paris, even those who came from working class families like her had avoided any true hardship too. But although she lived in this bubble of the upper-class she still knew of the violence and suffering taking place across the city, tucked away in the outer banlieues, where the government did little to protect its citizens. This city where corporations lobbied for less protection for their workers, and the government bowed to them.

When the people began demonstrating in the streets against this injustice being perpetrated Marinette went out with them. She was only seventeen but knew that she had a chance to make her voice heard, she wanted everyone to hear her, hear her shout that this wasn’t good enough. She didn’t tell her parents of her actions, they didn’t ask too many questions of her whereabouts unless she didn’t finish her chores around the bakery, but they would forbid her from going if they thought she was putting herself in danger. And make no mistake, she was. But she wanted to help people; she could finally act directly, and she wasn’t going to stop now.

She woke early dragging herself from bed with gargantuan effort. She dressed quickly and headed downstairs to help her parents prepare for the days work, “Mum? I was going to head down to the parks for most of day, I was just wondering when I can get away?” Marinette asked her mother, as she pulled her icing supplies out of the pantry. 

“Well we shouldn’t be too busy today so once you’ve finished the icing you can head out, but make sure when you get back to clean up the kitchen as Tom and I will be out tonight,” Sabine replied without looking up from rolling her croissant pastry. 

“Thanks mum,” Marinette replied and fell silent, focusing on completing her work as fast as possible to leave earlier.

Marinette washed up and ran to her room as soon as she finished, just before 8:30, changing into a clean tank top and slipping her polka dot hoodie on over it she grabbed a backpack and her first aid kit, a water bottle, and a flu mask putting it all in it into it. Putting her phone in her pocket she left the bakery with her hood down and quickly made her way to the Place de la Republique pulling her hood up and sliding her mask on as she got within sight of it. Joining the march just behind the black block of anarchists and anti-fascists as they left the square, she felt she was back in her element, no longer was she the clumsy nervous marinette, now she was an anonymous masked face in the crowd ready to let her anger show and to fight with the rest of them.

She’d only attended a handful of marches thus far, and this was the closest she’d been to the police line during them. The energy of the crowd burned more intensely here; here where the chanting and banners united them, the smoke and flares cloaked them, and the government opposed them, Marinette felt alive and powerful with her comrades pushing on all sides of her.

After the opening salvo of insults and demands were traded the police launched tear-gas into the crowd to try to disperse them, instead just inciting them to fight back harder with people responding with Molotov cocktails and flares. The police slowly lost ground, the protesters pushing back against them. but every time that the march advanced past a side street a scuffle broke out with the line of police guarding it, rocks and bats being beaten back to stop them spilling out into the city.

A section of the protest was being herded away from the main group and into an arch by one of the groups of police. They began beating on the people trying to push past them, and as she watched a man in a black hoodie was suddenly bashed into wall by a baton blow to his face. Marinette began to move towards him when he broke past the cop trying to restrain him and leapt, cat like, over a railing that cut them off from the street and ran into the crowd. Marinette tried to follow him to offer him some aid for his face but quickly lost him among the sea of smoke and black hoods.

________________________________________________________________________________

The smoke rising from the tear gas began to obscure the police further ahead as the crowd moved forward, now less homogeneous than before with people moving in smaller groups armed with shields and bats, some moving ahead to return the gas grenades back to the police line. Marinette began to feel the effects of the tear gas as the day wore on, her mask doing more to conceal her identity than protect her from the smoke. Taking an alley way away from the main street, she walked briskly to a park closer to her home and sat down at a secluded bench to let herself breath in the fresh air and silence.

She stayed at the park for another few hours just sketching away at her designs and enjoying the gentle sunlight even as it was filtered through the smoke still rising from where the protests had been. She got home and headed past the front of house and into the kitchen. It looked atrocious, the sink was full, every surface defaced by flower or batter, all the utensils disorganised, left encrusted with batter.

Another few hours later Marinette dragged herself up to her room after finishing cleaning the shop to the standards her parents expected. She slumped against her desk and dragged her homework out of her school bag thumping it down among her current projects. She stared unseeing at her page of maths work, it swam before her, her mind failing spectacularly at deciphering the hieroglyphics in front of her. She lay her head on her desk and stared at the pile of books through her lashes, willing them to combust and leave her in peace. She found herself too bruised and tired to care that she’d regret failing to start in the morning, instead she slid out of her jeans, climbed into her bed, and rolled up in her covers easily dropping into sleep.

Being woken by her mother wasn’t unheard of but it also wasn’t very welcome. Marinette blearily looked down at her disappointed face poking out of her trapdoor, “Marinette you need to get up school starts in half an hour,” and without waiting for a response Sabine descended back to the shop leaving Marinette to get ready for the day. She dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of loose black sweatpants and a pink T-shirt. She laced up a pair of high-top sneakers, grabbed a croissant, and began running to school.

She made it to class with a few minutes to spare and dropped into her seat. “Hi Alya,” she greeted.

“Hi yourself Marinette, did you get any sleep?” She replied.

“I had to clean up the kitchen on top of homework,” Marinette said resignedly, “Hey Nino, hey Adrien,”

“Hey Mari,” Adrien replied with a smile.

“Morning Marinette,” greeted Nino, “Either of you notice anything up with Adrien?”

“No…“ Said Alya.

Marinette took a closer look at the model who was now staring at Nino in confusion. She still had a crush on him, but she’d calmed down enough to be his friend since he first joined the class. “Are you wearing more makeup than usual?” She said finally.

“Yeah… I got a bruise on my face and father said that it has to be hidden,” Adrien said, “I thought it wouldn’t be that noticeable,”

“Don’t worry dude, you look fine,” Nino assured him, “I didn’t notice it was the makeup, you just barley look different,”

Marinette tried to focus as her lessons got underway, but before she knew it the day had disappeared. She found herself free of commitments and decided try her hand at parkour, she’d seen the man at the protest vault a barrier with ease and she saw the advantages in having that freedom of movement if she was to continue to put herself in danger by attending protests and confronting the police.

She wandered around the city, on the lookout for outdoor staircases or low walls where she could practice vaults and jumps. She had walked for half an hour when she reached a courtyard beneath a block of flats, it had high garden beds full of dead grass and some rails and walls to vault over. 

She approached a wall at a run, with a jump she grabbed hold of the lip and tucked her legs under her to push up and swing round to sit on it. From her elevated position she surveyed the area, it looked perfect for her to practice at, she began mapping routes in her mind, picking an obstacle she dropped back to the ground and ran towards a handrail next to an access ramp, she leapt, placing one hand on the rail and swinging her legs clear over it. Landing on the other side she retained her momentum and jumped over the hand-rail on the other side by tucking her legs under her and pushing off with her hands.

She spent nearly two hours at the spot before heading home, her parents didn’t notice that she was nearly three hours late to being home from school only responding with a “Hi dear,” as she passed through the bakery to her room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the second chapter, please comment if you'll read more of this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading. I've got a beta for this chapter so hopefully the grammar is better==

Adrien had been stewing for more than a week under house arrest. This Sunday’s photoshoot was nearly the last straw. He’d had to sit in place, foist on a false smile, and deal with people he didn’t know or trust, as they poked, prodded, and groped him. He climbed out of his window almost the moment he reached his room, not caring that he could get caught. He’d heard rumours of a demonstration of some sort taking place at the Hotel de Ville, so he made his way there. Interested to see how the protest panned out and keen to show his support, he couldn’t deny that part of him just longed for that feeling of anonymity in the crowd. Probably a thousand people were gathered at the square, a mob of black clad protesters stood in a tight group, making a wall of bodies at the entrance, blocking access to the buildings.

Pulling his hood tighter around his face, Adrien moved past the edges of the crowd, sliding among the bodies that pressed in as he moved deeper. A man with an inky black mop of hair was lifted above the crowd, he looked to be in his early twenties and wore similar clothes to the rest of the protesters, but his face was uncovered, none of his features obscured, seemingly unafraid of public retribution. The man’s voice rose above the din of the crowd, “Mayor Bourgeois, we are calling for you to resign your seat. You have proven unwilling to help your citizens during this time of horrific inequality. This situation is your doing, and you could of stopped it if you wanted,” The crowd voiced its support with dozens of cries echoing around Adrien who now stood only a few bodies away from the man, the epicentre of the malcontent. His voice came again, shouting from above them, “We get no pleasure from opposing those who should be our representatives, we don’t want this, any of this, we are only here as the natural response to injustice. And we make No mistake, it is the injustice perpetrated by You, That is what we are responding to.”

The man dropped back down into the crowd as he finished his speech, the people around him echoing his demands and voicing support. A bullhorn rang out, interrupting them as police vans rolled into the entrance of the square, ready to arrest the protesters en masse. Adrien moved back, hidden in the crowd, trying to put enough distance between him and the police that they wouldn’t notice him as he escaped. 

He stumbled backwards, almost bowling a man over, “Oh sorry, are you alright?” Adrien asked him, reaching his arm out to steady him. As he turned to him, Adrien realised that it was the same man who’d addressed the crowd before. He was shorter than Adrien had expected, he had looked larger than life when he’d been commanding the crowd but now on the ground Adrien realised that he only came up to his chin.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, don’t worry,” the man assured him, “you getting away from the cops?” He asked. 

Adrien just nodded wondering what the other option was.

“Good, I’m staying, gotta make a statement you know,” 

Truthfully, Adrien did not know.

“They’ll seize my bag if I keep it. Can you get this to Tikki, she’s about 4”6’, bright red hair, looks like a biker.” He handed Adrien a black backpack, “tell her Plagg sent you.”

While they’d talked, the police had started closing in on the group, trying to cut off any escape for the core group who’d occupied the steps. “You should probably get outta here,” the man spoke from behind him, before shoving Adrien past one of the police officers and squaring up to divert the officer’s attention, swinging his arms wide as if to invite him to fight. Adrien scrambled to his feet clutching the bag and set off running towards the other side of the road.

Once he realised that the police weren’t going to chase every runner, he turned around and began looking for the mysterious ‘Tikki’ whose bag he was apparently carrying. His eyes swept the crowd trying to pick features out of the writhing mass of bodies, it would be hard enough to find her if he knew what she looked like, but with only Plagg’s vague description he felt almost ridiculous trying to find a single person in a crowd of more than a few hundred. He didn’t want to give up though, he had been entrusted with a task and he was going to complete it.

He remained at the fringes, staying out of the way of police but not running away, not yet anyway. Anyone who could justifiably be described as looking like a biker was scrutinised by him as they left the crowd. He saw Plagg being marched into one of the vans in handcuffs, he caught Adrien’s eye and nodded towards a group breaking away from the crowd. One of them, a girl in a polka dot hoodie, was being tugged towards a side street by a short woman in a leather jacket. He caught sight of the woman’s bright red hair and raced after them, hoping this was ‘Tikki’. 

“Excuse me, Hey, are you Tikki?” He yelled after her as they headed towards a copse of trees a few streets away from the square. She turned to him with a wary look, “I’m sorry for chasing you, but some guy named… Uh, Plague… said to give you this bag. Also, he, uh, got arrested.”

She sighed. “Of course he did. Yeah, I’m Tikki, I can’t believe he just handed some random dude our bag. But, thanks for not running off with it,” She gave him a weary smile as she grabbed it. “I’ve gotta run if I’m gonna get to him before he gets processed.” She suddenly seemed kind of serious, “you two seem alright, make sure you watch each-other getting outta here. I’ve heard that some of the cops have been sent undercover to stir up trouble.”

“Are we in danger if we’re here?” The hooded girl asked.

“Just… be careful, and if your gonna leave, do it now,” She turned away with a cheery wave, “Ciao.”

“Would you like to leave together then?” Adrien asked her, “I don’t want to be overstepping but I do think Tikki was right, we’d probably be safer together.”

Her face was mostly obscured by her hood and surgical mask but her blue eyes crinkled at the corners, giving him the impression that she was smiling at him. “I can walk home myself you know, but thanks.” 

She tried to turn away but winced, her knee twisting under her. She would have hit the ground if he hadn’t jumped forward and caught her, “Are you sure?” 

“There’s no way you’ll let me go off alone now, will you?”

“I couldn’t let an injured lady wander the city alone, could I?” He took her arm to support the weight her leg couldn’t. “Point the way.” 

She sighed but dutifully led him along as they set off slowly towards her house. He left her once they’d reached a corner near his school, she told him it was near enough to her house that she could walk home without help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments, please keep them coming it has really inspired me to keep writing. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this has taken a while,  
> Sorry y'all.

Marinette helped her parents close up the bakery before she headed to the metro, decked out in her usual uniform of black jeans, boots and her polka-dot hoodie. As she walked up the stairs from the station, she pulled on her mask. When she’d begun attending the protests, she’d worn a paper surgical mask, she liked the anonymity that it offered. But as she grew more comfortable at the protests, she began to solidify her identity and sewed a more permanent mask from some black fabric as a replacement.

She began picking up speed in her excitement, almost running as she reached the park where a large crowd was already gathered. The trees around them were bathed in golden light from the setting sun, and as it slipped lower over the city and shadows grew, torches and candles began to light among the crowd. 

From the plinth of an obelisk near the middle of the park, a speaker began to call out the familiar demands for equality that Marinette had heard many times before. The crowd voices sang back in support, crying out for salvation. Marinette looked closely at the other people sitting on the monument, recognising the woman who helped her to safety during the protest a week or so ago. She pushed closer towards the centre, moving slow, abandoning her earlier plan to stay safe on the fringes; she felt safer now that she recognised someone and she needed to thank Tikki for her help. Although her injury hadn't been very bad, it could have been much worse without the aid.

The speaker finished her piece and climbed from the plinth allowing another protester to take her place.

Marinette had remained near the centre, listening as people spoke of the struggle against tyranny worldwide, how they had allies among all people and she joined in as chants broke out. Half an hour had passed since Marinette had spotted Tikki but she hadn’t yet managed to speak to her. She moved away from a couple girls she’d been chatting to and was moving towards the obelisk when a siren broke through the din of the crowd. A PA system atop a police cruiser ordered the ceasing of activities. The speaker who still held a megaphone called for the people to capitulate and leave in the interests of safety, the rally had not been arranged with rioting in mind. The crowd thinned, spreading away from where they’d clustered around the monument and moving quickly towards the exits, knowing the police wouldn’t lose an opportunity to push them around. The tight-nit crowd at the centre was starting to ease but Marinette still had a hard time moving through the mass of bodies. Rather than joining the crush of people streaming towards the entrance to the park, she moved towards an emptier corner in the hopes that she’d be able to get her bearings and escape another injury. A scream, followed by shouting and gasps rose from behind her. She whipped around and watched as a group surged towards the police, pulling a woman from the ground and passing her back towards relative safety where Marinette could see blood pouring from her face.

Marinette knew she couldn’t do anything to help in the moment and the acute need to escape the park gave her a focused tenacity as the violence escalated behind her. Her heart leapt to her throat as a smoking canister smashed into the ground ahead of her, spewing acrid gas. A hand pulled her sideways, towards a copse of trees away from the tear gas. 

“Hello again, Princess.” It was the black clad boy from the Hotel de Ville protest who’d helped her home. He was probably grinning under that mask, “I don’t think we should hang around.”

She took off running beside him, his hand losing its grip on her hoodie and slipping into her hand. They burst through the trees and saw a pair of cops trying to cut off an escape route through a side gate. 

“Head to the right of that pair, I’ll take left. Get over that fence!” Marinette shared her plan as they ran towards the exit, trusting him to follow her directions, she took off without a second thought.

She kept straight, charging the cops, watching them drop back ready for impact. At the last second she peeled left, skirting around them and leaping onto the mesh fence, scurrying up it in a few leaps. As she swung over the top of the fence she glanced to her right and saw the boy reach the top alongside her and perch atop it, catlike, before leaping the 10 feet to the ground. She landed on the dirt and raced with him to the road.

“Where next?” He asked

“I’ve got no idea,” she replied, catching her breath and looking around. 

“YO!” The shout came from a motorbike as it skidded to a stop in front of them. The driver’s face was hidden by a helmet, but the red hair in the sidecar was unmistakable.

“Tikki!” Marinette gasped.

“Wait… Plagg?” asked the boy beside her.

“That’s us, now get on the bike and we can get outta here already.” Plagg’s voice came muffled from behind his helmet.

“Both of you, in the sidecar,” added Tikki, leaping up behind Plagg and squeezing him tight.

The boy jumped onto the spare tire, and gestured Marinette into the seat. She climbed in hastily but not without trepidation and pulled the boy’s arms around her chest as Plagg revved the engine and swept away from the park. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

They pulled over into a poorly lit car park, several banlieues over. Adrien climbed out on shaky legs, the adrenaline of their escape now wearing off which always left him jittery and with a rush of indescribable emotions. He turned and took in his travel companions. “Ahh, hi again…”

“Hi~. I hope we didn’t freak either of you out.” Tikki said.

The girl swung herself up and out of the sidecar. “I’m alright,” she replied with a tired smile. “I was actually looking for you at the rally Tikki, I really wanted to thank you for getting me out of the crowd at Hotel de Ville.”

“You’ve met her before, Tkki?” asked Plagg.

“Yeah, we met at one of the protests,” smiled Tikki, “The one where you were arrested, if I remember correctly,” she added, her voice becoming slightly more menacing as she turned to glare at the grinning Plagg.

“Haha…yeah,” he continued to smile sheepishly. “Anyway, good to meet. If you’re Tikki’s friend then you’re mine too, I’m Plagg,” he said, offering his hand. 

The girl hesitated as she took his hand, “I’m….uh…”

“You don’t need to give us a name if you don’t want to,” Tikki assured her. “We should call you something though.”

“What about coccinelle?” Offered Plagg, nodding to her hoodie. 

“That is a very stupid name,” deadpanned Tikki. “Anyway, you should pick.” she added, turning to the girl.

“Uhh, well coccinelle isn’t too bad, but I could go with Ladybug?” Said Mariette, suggesting the beetles English name. 

“Coccinelle is that bad, but ladybug is a very sweet name.” She turned to Adrien with a smile, “Hey, thanks for getting that bag back to me. I guess you’ve met all of us now, huh.”

“No problem,” he smiled at her. His heart had begun to calm down after the breakneck ride they’d taken. “Question. Do I get a nickname?

The girl (ladybug) turned to him. “We could call you chaton.” Adrien wasn’t great at reading expressions behind a mask, but he hoped she was kidding. “You move like a cat anyway.” She added by way of explanation.

Plagg began cackling, “That name is perfect.” 

Tikki just turned to him with an exasperated expression, reminding him that he had the choice of his nickname.

“I’ll stick with the cat theme I guess,” He paused for a second, “You can call me Chat Noir, because if I’m not being edgy I don’t feel like I’m rebelling.”

Even Tikki began laughing at this, breaking down until the car park was filled with the sound of the ragtag group laughing away the stress of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, please tell me how I did. I'm really new to writing for an audience so any feedback would be appreciated.


End file.
